


Questions

by moxhiistarr



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Comforting Aziraphale (Good Omens), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Establised Relationship, Fluff, Hurt Crowley, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Wingfic, crowley has low self-esteem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-26 21:24:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19776718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moxhiistarr/pseuds/moxhiistarr
Summary: - Crowley has a bad dream about the Fall and Aziraphale comforts him.- Mild descriptions of supernatural beings in the process of being burned alive (it really isn’t that bad)- Crowley is bad at feelings- Light angst with a bittersweet ending because i’m a slut for hurt/comfort





	Questions

**Author's Note:**

> \- this is a pretty self indulgent one shot (i might add more chapters??? no promises tho.)  
> \- but it’s been on my mind for a while and I just wanted to finish it since i had some spare time  
> \- hope y’all enjoy it!

There was a sudden pain that ran up Crowley’s spine as him and the other rebellious angels were burned alive. The wrath of the Almighty washed over them, leaving physical scars on the fallen angel - black wings, yellow slitted eyes, scales. The pain was too unbearable and he yelped out in agony, while every part of his previous self was scraped away. He didn't belong here. This was just a misconception, surely She would understand, right?

"Please! Don't make me go with them." He called out, reaching upward as an attempt to take a piece of the light that was towering above him. The light that he was once apart of. "I'll be good! I'll be quiet…" 

There was no answer. 

"Just… don't do this to me. I beg of you, ple-." She stood there unwavering, unmerciful and before he could say another word She vanished, forever. 

_ “How could someone do this?”  _ He thought, as the flames licked the heels of his feet.  _ “How could someone claim to love something so much? Yet, put him through such an awful experience. She was the Almighty. She was supposed to love us. Take care of us. Not cast us away for something as small as asking a question.”  _

Crowley began to feel numb as he descended further and further, everything around him was spiraling out of control and the world seemed to blur together until all that was left was complete darkness.

***

The demon got up with a jolt, as his wings manifested themselves (a direct result of the shock that he was currently experiencing). 

_ No, no, no. Please, no for Sat-Go- Somebody's sake not right now. Not when Aziraphale was here lying next to him. _

“Is that you, dear?” A familiar voice called out. It was the last thing Crowley wanted to hear right now so he immediately hid behind his wings, creating a barrier between him and the outside world. The demon’s body tensed and he pulled his knees close to his chest, gripping his arms tightly. His breaths were sporadic as he tried his best to hold back sobs yet, the action only made the demon convulse violently as he resisted the tendency to break down completely. “Shhh… it’s alright.” Aziraphale was immediately by the demon’s side. “It’s only me, dearest. Look, I’m right here nothing is going to hurt you.” The angel said, assuringly, with the softest voice. The serpent’s vice-like clutch on his arms begin to relax as he lifted his head slightly his focus was immediately brought to Aziraphale’s eyes they were a piercing blue when the moonlight shone directly on his face. “Good! You’re doing very well, love.” Aziraphale exclaimed, giving the demon a weary smile. He reached out slowly, hovering his hands over one of the demon’s wings before continuing. “Can I touch you?” He asked, his question was answered with a weak nod. The angel pulled gently at the wing, making a large enough space to maneuver his way closer to the demon. He clutched Crowley’s hands tenderly hoping that the action would help bring him back to reality. It seemed to help a little. “Listen closely, alright? I would like you to mimic my breathing.” The angel said, he began to exaggerate his breaths inhaling and exhaling slowly. Crowley tried his best to follow along, still gasping for air. Though he eventually was able to regulate his breathing after a few minutes of doing this. 

“‘m sorry…” The Crowley muttered, a bit embarrassed. “I-I didn’t mean to wake you...”

“There’s no need to apologize, dear. It wasn’t your fault.” Aziraphale squeezed the demon’s hands tighter as an effort to make him feel better. “What caused this?”

“Nothing. It’s fine… really isssn’t that big of a deal.” Crowley said, nonchalantly. He didn’t want to tell the angel what was bothering him, afraid of worrying Aziraphale even more.

“Don’t Lie to me Crowley. One does not just wake up in a cold sweat over  _ nothing _ , obviously there is something troubling you. Please, tell me what’s really going on.” The demon looked away sheepishly, of course Aziraphale would say that. He was too damn clever. Crowley felt his throat tighten as he freed himself of Aziraphale’s grip and buried his face in his hands. Sunglasses would be very helpful right now. 

“I was… there, again. I-I mean, in Heaven. I thought I was used to it by now but sometimes I get these flashbacks about the Fall.” The demon laughed dryly. “Though, I always find myself feeling so miserable and I can’t get rid of it either, it’s so fucking frustrating. I hate feeling guilty. I hate reliving the sssame moment. I just want to move on but… maybe it’s what I deserve-” 

“My dear boy, you surely do not deserve this.” The angel protested, furrowing his brow in unease. He leaned closer to Crowley who was still quite shaken. “I’m so sorry that you of all people had to undergo an experience as horrible as Falling.” Crowley glanced back at Aziraphale who had nothing but love in his eyes and shook his head in disbelief. 

“Of course I deserve it. I’m a demon, Angel.” Those words broke Aziraphale’s heart. The demon looked down as his chest constricted uncomfortably. Aziraphale placed a gentle hand on Crowley’s cheek, wiping away a new round of tears that began to flow down the demon’s face before pulling him closer. Aziraphale manifested his own wings, using them to shelter his partner. Crowley took in Aziraphale’s familiar scent - old books, tea, his cologne... - while the angel combed his fingers through the demon’s scruffy hair. It was soothing, to say the least.


End file.
